Leah's hands were trembling as she yanked her phone from her bag. Her claws dug into the edges as she dialed her mother's number, fury coiling in her chest like a coiled wolf ready to strike. The moment her mother answered, she nearly screamed into the phone.
"Mom! Tell Mr. and Mrs. Manson to come now! Nigel—he's proposing to someone else!" Her voice shook, anger and disbelief clawing at every word. She could feel the heat of her wolf stirring, a primal rage that made her want to stamp her paw on the floor. How could this happen? Who is she? What pack does she belong to?
Meanwhile, from the second-floor stairway, Elliot's eyes were fixed on the stage, sharp as a wolf's hunting gaze. His body tensed, muscles coiled beneath his pristine shirt. He wanted to step in, to dominate the moment, to ensure that no other male dared stake a claim on his mate.
She's mine, his wolf growled deep in his chest. I don't care about orders, debts, or past favors. She belongs to me.
